The Shadowed Path Trilogy by Morgan Howell – review

Ordinarily you wouldn’t find me reviewing an entire trilogy together.  I like to review books separately, since I don’t often read the same author/series back to back–I take breaks between and read something entirely different.  Not so with “The Shadowed Path” trilogy by Morgan Howell.

Howell, who came to my attention after his “Queen of Orcs” trilogy, was an insta-read for me.  He made me like orcs.  That’s a feat right there.  I had put off reading his newest trilogy, which is set a couple centuries after “Queen,” however, because I really, really dislike reading his books months and months apart.  So I patiently waited.  And waited.  And stared balefully at the books, and waited.  Finally the third book, The Iron Palace, was released in December 2010, and thus could I finally read the books.

I call you out, sir, for making me doubt fated love!

I am going to forgo the usual summarizing of the books because, quite frankly, it would only spoil certain plot twists you should find out for yourself.

What I enjoyed best about Yim and Honus was that they were both thoroughly devout followers of the Goddess, but they weren’t blind.  They both questioned the Goddess’ inability to squash the evil of the Devourer and Lord Bahl.  They both (in private, mostly) questioned their own worth and whether following the Goddess was worth the sacrifices they made and that were made for them.

Many times throughout the course of the novels, Howell will take the focus away from the two of them and show us a larger world view.  We learn about Bahl in this manner, as well as those who serve him. Later, when separations occur, we watch as they struggle individually to fight Bahl and struggle to understand why the Goddess would make such difficulties.

The world is of absolutes much of the time; absolute evil (Bahl) versus absolute good (the Goddess).  The mortals stuck in between are just that–stuck.  On the one side they have Bahl and his minions creating a homicidal rage that has ordinary men dismembering their families for the most inconsequential of things.  Then you have the servants of the Goddess, like Yim or Honus, fighting a losing uphill battle.

I’ve always held a healthy love for fate and fated love.  It’s been tested in recent years because of the preponderance of paranormal fiction to use “fate”and “soul mates” as an excuse to cut corners on relationship development, but I still enjoy reading about it when it’s done well.  It’s fairly obvious that Yim and Honus are “meant to be,” but Howell doesn’t use that as an excuse not to build up certain foundations of their relationship.

We read as they learn to trust one another with secrets, as they figure out those things that work best when handling each other.  They don’t immediately become fast friends or comrades–at first Yim is Honus’ slave.  He treats her as such; he expects her to be such.  And their devout belief in the Goddess hampers their bond.  Always the knowledge that even though they have each other, they belong first to the Goddess and her Will, acts as a barbed fence.

Another wedge in their bond comes from their divergent beliefs on how to handle Bahl and the Evil that is the Devourer.  Honus has, since a young age, trained as a deadly warrior.  It’s what he does, even though it shames him.  His first instinct is to fight.  But Bahl’s power comes from violence, from the blood and brutality of war.  The struggle that Honus faces is enormous, but Howell conveys it not as frenetic action sequences.  Small things–the quiet way Honus withdraws into himself to trance gradually becomes more frequent.  His sudden fits of chattiness followed by tense silence.

Here’s what I didn’t like in this trilogy, however–the pacing.  So much of the first book (A Woman Worth Ten Coppers) is taken up by world building that very little, over-arching plot-wise, happens.  We get a lot of character build-up for Yim and Honus.  Which I don’t normally scoff at; however, we’d have chapters of “getting to know them” and no action.

Book 2 (Candle in the Storm) is little better, but instead of Yim and Honus we get build-up for Bahl, the Devourer, the Old Ones, and various dark minions.  Yim and Honus get lost in the shuffle, and key moments of their development happen abruptly and with little segue.

Book 3 (The Iron Palace)–which I glare at with extreme displeasure, because my least favorite plot device is used to get the story moved ahead–is very jerky, and the scene transitions are choppy.  I admit that Howell does surprise with the twist on Yim’s destiny, but the very end of The Iron Palace smacked of having your cake and eating it, too.  For spoiler reasons I can’t say more than if that’s the Goddess’ idea of “Compassion,” she should get schooled.

In the end I don’t regret reading this trilogy, or waiting to read it.  I have a feeling if I had to wait months between two and three I would have gone crazy.  I do, however, wish that Howell would try to tighten the focus of the characters and character development.